


Dominance

by canaa



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Dominance, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Hate Sex, Knotting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canaa/pseuds/canaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the DA kmeme.  Elven physiology differs from human in a way not immediately visible; they knot during sex.  Original prompt is here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/7357.html?thread=26909117#t26909117</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dominance

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I wrote Anders/Fenris. No, don't expect this to be a regular occurance from me - I don't especially enjoy this particular relationship dynamic, and I prefer Fenris with Hawke or Sebastian. But after reading the prompt this is a fill for, I simply could not get the mental image of Anders calling Fenris a dog over his physiology out of my head - you _know_ he would.

There was nothing of affection in this. Fenris lashed Anders' arms together with his wide belt, then used one hand to wrench them up further behind his back as the abomination fought his hold, swearing at him, struggling to free himself. When that proved insufficient control by itself, the warrior placed one bare, threatening knee against the delicate sac of Anders' balls.

The struggling ceased instantly. "Fine," Anders snarled under him. "So you win this time, Fenris. That must be a triumph for you, since it's also the first time. I was starting to think you were losing on purpose, just so you could feel my cock in your arse, get pounded by a mage like you were always meant to-"

Fenris slapped him with his free hand, silencing the healer. "Shut up," he demanded, and pressed more heavily with his knee, pressure that threatened to become pain but stayed just this side of that border. "I endured it in the knowledge that my turn would come, and it has."

"You _enjoyed_ it," Anders countered snidely. "Do you think I don't know what 'please' is in Tevinter? You like it when I shove my- _fuck, ah!_ " The mage broke off with a cry of pain as Fenris _twisted_ his arms and bore down with his knee, grinding the mage's sensitive parts into the bench they had ended up over when their customary quarrel for dominance ended.

When he relented, the mage lay lax under him, recovering from the double agony, and Fenris took advantage of that to nudge his legs wide, exposing the tight hole of his arse. "You're one to talk," he snarled. "How many Templars have you had between your legs? Did you seduce them for your freedom, or were you bound and captured as you are now, and they decided to have some fun with you, as I am going to do? It's certainly nothing less than you deserve."

Anders bucked wildly at that, cursing him, but Fenris' grip was firm, and the jolt of lightning the mage attempted to shock him with, he grounded harmlessly through his tattoos, lyrium conducting the energy away from sensitive flesh and into the floor under his bare feet. Fenris laughed cruelly as the mage's struggles subsided again, and reached one-handed for the bottle of oil.

Uncorking it with one hand was a challenge, but one Fenris was easily able to meet, and he slicked his fingers. Sliding his oiled hand down under Anders' body, he wrapped the wet heat of his fist around Anders' iron-hard cock and stroked, smirking as Anders' gasping breaths took on a different note, more desperate. Spurred by the sound, Fenris rocked his hips, slid his own stiff prick along the crease of Anders' arse.

"I'm going to take you," the warrior said, voice low and hoarse, "So hard that you will be unable to sit for Wicked Grace tomorrow evening. You will _not_ heal yourself."

"Make me," Anders snarled, but his defiance was melting into need, and Fenris knew he would obey. That was how this arrangement of theirs worked; as much as they despised each other, they desired each other as well, and their battles for dominance were total until their next fight. Until Anders won over him again, Anders was his.

Fenris released the hot flesh in his hand and slid his fingers up to trace lightly around the rim of Anders' hole, watching the quiver and clench as Anders tried to gather his resistance. "You'll want to relax, mage," Fenris smirked. "I'm not going to go easy on you. You'll be taking my knot tonight. Have you ever had an elf's knot inside you before?"

Under him, Anders jolted. "Of course I have. If you think your knot concerns me, you're optimistic. It's just one more piece of proof that you're nothing more than a wild dog." Excessively casual, his voice exposed the lie for what it was.

Fenris chuckled, despite the insult, and thrust one finger into Anders' hole without further preamble. The mage hissed, unprepared for even that intrusion. "Really. It seems like it's been some time since you had anything in here - you're far tighter than I expected of a slut like you." The elf worked the finger in deeper, stretching. "Especially if you find my knot nothing to worry about. Isabela took one look and refused to let me tie with her. But you don't have a choice, do you?"

Of course, Anders always had a choice - he could unleash Justice, and the game would end. Likewise, if Fenris used his lyrium markings in any manner other than defensive, Anders could not force him into anything he did not wish. But such were the rules of this arrangement: they would _not_ do those things unless a line was crossed, and if it happened, it required the entire arrangement to be renegotiated.

Given that Anders' skin was not developing glowing cracks, Fenris had no issue with forcing a second finger in beside the first, pushing the mage's body faster than it could easily keep up with. Neither of them wanted this to be gentle, and so Fenris scissored his fingers sharply, crooked them hard and rubbed against that odd, spongy spot inside while Anders whined low in his throat, shaking with need. Forcing the mage to come apart under his hands was surprisingly satisfying, and Fenris indulged himself a bit longer, until Anders' desperate noises scaled up, louder, higher, his hips jerking in tiny, uncontrolled movements as he neared his peak - and then Fenris withdrew, to the sweet sound of a pained, _wanting_ sob from the abomination under him.

A bit more oil smoothed over his aching hardness, and Fenris lined himself up, teasingly brushing the moist head of his prick against Anders' entrance. "I know you lied," he taunted. "You've never had an elf inside you, have you? If I had to guess, I'd wager that you always thought yourself too good to allow one of my kind to fuck you. Oh, you're happy to slip your cock inside an elf, since we're _meant_ to be fucked by humans, by mages, like the good little slaves you'd have us be if you could. But you've never let one inside of _you_."

Without waiting for a response, Fenris pushed forward, and Anders' taut hole stretched around the broad head of his prick. The promise of heat and exquisite tightness beckoned him, but he held back at the widest part of the head, enjoying the flex of Anders' back and arse as he bore down, alternately trying to push the intruder out, and pull it in deeper, and the hoarse, pained rasp of Anders' breathing as he struggled to master himself, unable to retort, unable to do anything but experience whatever Fenris chose to do to him.

Finally, _finally_ , Fenris laughed and drove in another inch, letting the deep, intense heat suck him inwards., and oh, the abomination was obnoxious, and weak, and a prideful fool who would see the entirety of Thedas end up like the Imperium if he could, but his arse was a paradise. Inch by inch Fenris slid his cock into that engulfing, slick warmth, until the swell of his knot rested against the quivering rim of Anders' hole that stretched so tightly around the lesser girth before it.

The elf released Anders' arms, finally, and moved both hands to Anders' hips, grasping tightly enough that he would leave finger-shaped bruises when all was done. After a bare moment's pause, an unnecessary kindness to allow Anders to adjust somewhat, he began to move, pulling out and slamming in, ungentle, pounding hard into that tight heaven with a grunt of effort. Anders' body rocked under him, sliding further across the bench with each vicious thrust, only to be dragged back into position by the rough grasp of Fenris' hands.

Arms tied, the mage was unable to brace himself, and he swore with an increasingly filthy litany of bitten off curses between gasps and broken-off moans. His tender prick dragged unrelentingly across the wooden bench, trapped between it and his stomach and eased only by the oil Fenris had slicked it with earlier.

Fenris tilted his hips, changing the angle; the sliding lessened even as his force increased, fucking down into the mage at an angle that ground his prick directly against the mage's prostate with each sharp thrust, and Anders yelled incoherently, losing even his ability to curse under the onslaught of harsh pleasure.

Still, Fenris stopped his thrusts just shy of his swelling knot. He ached to bury himself entirely within the mage, instinct screaming at him to force himself in and tie, to empty his seed within and claim the mage as his own, but he held back, forcing down his need for release.

Between thrusts, he saw Anders' balls drawn up tight, and he freed one hand, darting it between them to encircle the mage at the root; the prick between his fingers jumped, and Anders wailed, his near-orgasm averted once again by Fenris' timely grasp.

"Beg me," Fenris said, bending down lower, aiming his voice just behind Anders' flushed ear. "Beg me to put my knot inside you."

Even twice-denied and desperate for release, Anders tossed his head, trying to hit Fenris' nose with his skull, and Fenris pulled back with a low laugh. "No? Then you won't get to come," he said, smugly, and relished the whimper as he continued to thrust shallowly, hampered by his hand between their bodies. "Any time you want to come," he added, "Simply open your mouth and ask for my knot."

He could see, could _feel_ the struggle in Anders' head; it was writ in the rippling of the muscles of his back, the exquisite clench of his arse around Fenris' invading cock. The mage was so easy to read that Fenris had known, had seen the inevitable, even before Anders' head finally dropped in true submission.

"Please, Fenris," Anders begged, and rolled his hips, pushing back, forcing himself further on to Fenris' aching erection. "Please, tie with me. I want you to take me, want your knot inside me. I _need_ it." If his plea was insincere, his tone hid it expertly.

Fenris' eyes slammed shut and he groaned as he dug in against the sudden swell of desire inside himself, holding himself completely still lest he finish solely from the sheer wave of lust that hearing the mage reduced to begging brought over him. Once out of immediate danger of embarrassing himself by coming prematurely like a youth, he leaned down and bit at Anders' shoulder blade, relishing the salt of the abomination's sweat, the taste of his skin. "Who am I to deny such a heartfelt request?" the elf asked, and released his grip around Anders' balls.

Regaining his purchase on Anders' hip, Fenris licked up the line of Anders' spine and thrust, hard, even as he pulled with his hands, forcing himself entirely into Anders' arse in one sharp movement. The engorged girth of his knot hesitated for a moment, pushing hard against the resistance of Anders' taut hole, and then it was past, _inside_ and Fenris drove himself in the last inch beyond it with a shout, all the way to the root.

Anders' cry mingled with Fenris', pain and pleasure together as the mage felt himself stretched wider than ever before by the wide knot, and yet it was still _growing_ as Fenris continued to pound in short, sharp jerks, continuously grinding the swelling knot against Anders' sweet spot.

The assault proved too much for the mage; a few more sharp thrusts of Fenris' hips and Anders came with a groan, shuddering under Fenris as his spend slicked the bench. The contractions of his orgasm tightened him around Fenris' prick, and the elf swore, loudly, then growled low in his throat, the sound very nearly like the dog that Anders named him. He bit hard enough into the muscle of Anders' shoulder to mark it for days, laving it with tongue as his hips stuttered in with his single-minded pursuit of his own pleasure. A few more short ragged thrusts was all it took before he too lost control, ecstasy crashing over him as his cock leaped and jerked inside the exquisite vise of Anders' arse, spending himself and filling the mage with his seed.

As the waves of exquisite pleasure subsided, taking his strength with it, the warrior collapsed over Anders' back with a long groan.

Anders was the first of them to recover, and he squirmed beneath Fenris until the elf snorted with irritation at having his languid peace disturbed by a wriggling bed and abandoned his grip on Anders' hips to untie his belt from the mage's arms.

He almost laughed when Anders immediately tried to pull away, and stopped with a startled curse as Fenris' knot, still buried inside and far too wide to remove yet, yanked hard against his entrance. "Be still," Fenris commanded. "Until I've finished with you, you will be going nowhere." He could feel himself still spurting within the mage, and anticipated the way his seed would pour out of the abomination once he could finally be removed. Elven men had _copious_ seed, and the thought of Anders having it locked inside of him was temptingly arousing despite Fenris' current state.

"You _are_ a dog," Anders said disdainfully. "Growling, biting, tying to your mate-"

Fenris laughed harshly. "If I am a dog, mage, then you are the dog's bitch," he pointed out, and bit Anders' back again just to hear the mage swear.

He looked forward to the next time they fought. He was learning Anders' tricks, now; magic or no, Anders would have a true struggle to avoid losing again.


End file.
